LONZA

     As for things around here, well, everything is pretty much the same with the exception that we lost Bogart this past Thursday (March 03, 2005). The medicine for his congestive heart failure was no longer helping much. Also, he had some seizures a while back that, according to his doctor, were most likely due to a brain tumor. That resulted in some neurological damage and, at times, he had trouble walking. Then, around the first of last week or the last of the week before that, he had another seizure. That one hit him the hardest, I think, and made it worse. One night, James and I had to help him to stand several times. (I had taken Bogart to the veterinarian that day and it was taking a bit of time for the pain medicine to work.) So, when he stopped eating and couldn't keep his medicine down, James and I decided it was time.

     I took Bogart to the vet and James met me there after he got off work. Bogart's doctor said there were other medicines that could be tried, but the outcome would be the same: He would die before long and, in the meantime, he seemed to be in pain and suffering.

     My friend, it was the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my entire life! While I didn't want Bogart to suffer, I also didn't want to take something from him that was rightfully his, you know? Yet, I think Bogart had already accepted the inevitable because he had become very, well, he had lost his "spirit" I think.

     I had just taken Bogart to the vet that evening for her to check him over since he wasn't eating and couldn't keep anything down. However, after talking with his doctor and realizing what had to be done, I called James' cell phone as I knew he would be about halfway home from his job in Dothan by that time. While we waited for Bogart's male human to get there, Bogart laid on the table and, with me in a chair beside him and leaning against the table, Bogart kept his head on my shoulder most of the time. Then, after James had talked with the doctor himself, I held Bogart in my arms while James petted him and the doctor euthanized him. My wonderful little canine friend went quickly and painlessly but ever so surely. When I asked her if he was gone and she nodded her head that he was, it seems like I said "Oh, my love." Then, this ironclad old bat broke into tears.

     We brought Bogart home and James buried him beside the house here. It was cold that night and James' back was bothering him a lot. Still, after burying him, James couldn't rest for a thought that kept going through his mind and heart. So, that dear, sweet man dug Bogart back up and placed the blanket that Bogart had slept on while I was at this computer in the box with him saying, "I don't want him to be cold." 

     I completely understood where James was coming from because I myself had put a toy in between Bogart's front paws before James buried him the first time. It was Bogart's very first toy, a little yellow rubber duck that I had bought on mine and Bogart's way home the afternoon that my sister and her husband gave Bogart to us. It had originally squeaked and, when it started to get holes in it, I had saved it all these years. My initial intentions were to keep the toy for myself but, with Bogart lying there alone in his box awaiting his own burial, I thought better of it and gave it back to him.

     James and I have been muddling through the time since but, just as I always knew we would be, we are two very messed up people right now. I find myself checking to make sure Bogart has plenty of water on account of how the medicine he had to take for his congestive heart failure made him thirsty, even though his bowls are no longer sitting in their usual spot on the kitchen floor as I have since washed and stored them. Also, while I am sitting here at the computer, I will sometimes turn around without thinking in an effort to find Bogart with my eyes so as to make sure he is all right. In his later years, Bogart had ridden with me in my car just about everywhere I went when it was permissible for him to do so. As such, when I am in the car now, I often find myself wanting to reach over to the car seat beside me and pet him.

     I've been feeling so lost since Bogart's passing. I knew I was very dependent upon that dog's presence, I just didn't realize how much so.

If you've ever known the joyful sound

Of barks that fill the air-

A sloppy kiss, a friendly paw,

A quiet adoring stare-

 

If you've ever had a special friend

To share a tear or two,

Or maybe just a wagging tail

To lift you when you're blue-

 

If you've ever felt the wrenching pain

That only death can send,

Then you have lost

Not just a dog-

You've truly lost a friend.

 

But God is good and treasures love

And there at Heaven's gate-

A sloppy kiss, a joyful bark-

Your precious friend awaits.